


The eleventh Hour

by rainb0wprincess



Category: Doctor Who (2005), 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Here's a random Doctor Who x Bangtan crossover that just kind of appeared, Hoseok is the Doctor, Jimin is Rory Williams, M/M, Yoongi is Amy Pond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-08-31
Packaged: 2018-04-18 07:17:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4697087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainb0wprincess/pseuds/rainb0wprincess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor regenerates and crash lands in a garden in Jeonggwan-myeon, an hour from Busan. He stumbles across a little boy with a crack in his wall and some aliens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The eleventh Hour

**Author's Note:**

> BINGO WEEK 4!! 
> 
> It's probably not necessary to _know_ the show to read this? (The Doctor is an alien, he has a Tardis, a ship which can travel in time and space, and a sonic screwdriver which can do a lot of things, but mostly is just really good at opening doors.)
> 
> //not my characters, not my plot, ectr... just my writing
> 
> Starring:  
> Hoseok as the Doctor, an alien Time Lord from the planet Gallifrey who's just regenerated  
> Min Yoongi as the little boy and later as the older boy  
> Park Jimin as his boyfriend 
> 
> This is unbeta'ed, so I hope there's not too many mistakes..

It was night time on planet earth, well, on parts of planet earth, but that doesn’t mean that it was dark. Not entirely, anyway. There was a city, laid between numerous mountains, tucked away into a valley. Each street, each building was illuminated brightly, some lights more yellow, some almost white-blue, so that the city wasn’t really dark at all, it was still pulsing brightly full of life. Almost right through the centre of the city was a dark band weaving its way through the light, the river Hangang, separating the north cleanly from the south of Seoul.

But even though the city was usually filled with all sorts of strange things, right now, the strangest thing of them all wasn’t really _in_ the city. The strangest being of them all was, in fact, falling from the sky, or almost falling out of a blue box, the two seemed to be happening simultaneously. The box was twirling, tumbling, through the sky, not moving at all in a straight line, but more wibbly-wobblying from side to side. It was a police box, like one you might have seen it around on the other side of the earth more than a few years back, apart from that those police boxes didn’t tend to fall through the sky, especially not while fuming and spitting out sparks. No, this was a rather unusual police box.

There was a man clinging to the edge of the box, perhaps the bottom of the box, but really, it was hard to tell where up and down was of this box. Small explosions shook the box, drifting it even further off its course, and probably not making it easier for the man to hold on to the box. At least he looked like a man, but one shouldn’t presume he was one. He was wearing a dress shirt, a tie and pinstriped trousers, but they weren’t half as new as the skin on his face. In fact, they were burned and ragged and torn on various places, the tie barely holding onto the collar of his light blue shirt. He was holding a rather odd device in his teeth, silvery, long and thin, and his dark hair fell into his eyes.

Another explosion from inside the box shook it, violently, almost throwing off the man holding onto it. His hands were clammy, new, not being used to the actions that hands usually perform, and rather struggling with their current task. The entirety of this man, in fact, was new, though not young at all. His face seemed, by human standards, to be about 25 years old, maybe a bit more, maybe a bit less, with a full fringe, a luscious black head of hair, dark irises laid in single-lidded eyes, with a straight nose between them, and heart-shaped lips.

The man was now able to pull himself up a little, heaving his shoulders over the edge, attempting to climb back into his blue box, when he turned his head slightly, and gulped. He was headed straight for a tower, N tower, he’d been there a few times before, not recently, not while wearing this face, but he was still familiar enough with the shape of Seoul’s television tower, on top of one of the smaller mountains within the city, Namsan mountain.

The man pulled the silvery long device out of his mouth and pointed it, haphazardly, at the inside of his box, pushing some kind of button on the side, making it shine a blue light from one of its ends and emit a sizzing sound, hoping to catch some of the steering rods mounted in the centre of the room. Most of them would probably manage to steer him at least slightly out of the way of the tower, and though he would most certainly survive this encounter, he simply preferred not to encounter the tower at all.

The box made a big swing to the right. However this steering manoeuvre made the man loose his grip on the box almost completely, hanging on by just his fingertips, desperately clutching his device in his right hand. He turned towards the tower, hoping he had made it, that he would be moving past it, that the swing to the right would have been big enough, but it still came closer and closer. He couldn’t help but scream as the box kept altering its course, bit by bit, narrowly scraping past the tower.

He’d made it. With the box flying upwards, it was momentarily more stabilised than before, and the man began pulling himself up again, this time successfully, this time, not interrupted by a giant tower. Rude, really. He pushed himself up and into the box, noticing the little fires that had erupted inside it with furrowing brows. This would make steering a little more difficult, to say the least. He climbed forward, and pushed the doors closed, sinking back against them. He barely managed to take a breath, slumped against the doors, when another explosion came from the deep inside of his box, and he was yanked forwards, as the box continued to fall through the sky.

 

* * *

 

It was a quiet night, the same night, actually, in a big house on the outskirts of a town. There was barely a breeze moving the leaves of the overgrown trees, barely a draught rattling the bushes, and yet the old rusty swings squeaked almost silently, as the moved on their own accord for there was a breath in the air, a breath of something that was about to begin.

The garden didn’t simply stop at the house, no, it grew onto the house, ivy sprawling across the house, like veins connecting extremities to the heart, and the house did seem more alive, more sentient, than your average house. The front door was almost completely engulfed in ivy, as were the two big windows on either side. On the top storey of the house, however, the painted wall was still visible, a mint green, in this light, colour varying as a testimony to its old age.

The house was illuminated; lights could be seen through the glass window on top of the front door, as well as the upstairs windows to the left and in the centre. It looked bright and lived in, almost, but only almost. Not a single voice was carried outside, not a single laughter. In fact there was only one voice speaking in the house right now, but it was so quiet, that it could barely be heard outside the room.

“Dear Santa,

Thank you for the dolls and pencils, and fish. It’s Easter now, so I hope I didn’t wake you, but honest, it is an emergency.”

A little boy, about seven years old by the looks of it, was kneeling in front of his bed, his hands pressed together for prayer. His hair was as black as the night, making his skin seem rather pale in contrast. His face was still round; not yet defined by growth or age. He was wearing a white old-fashioned pyjama top, with a pattern on it that almost looked as if someone had spilled red sugary sprinkles over him.

His eyes fluttered nervously, but stayed shut, and he continued, voice wavering: “There is a crack in my wall.”

He licked his lips, turning his head slightly to look at it. And really, there was a crack, like a long line someone had drawn across his bedroom wall, while not even attempting it to be a straight line. It was almost like a curve, like a small smile, but it wasn’t a smooth line, it was going up and down in spikes, like wrinkles, or teeth. The little boy turned away again, and closed his eyes once more.

“Auntie says it's just an ordinary crack, but” he paused a little, and spoke up again with urgency, “I know it’s not.. ‘cause.. at night there’s voices, so, please, _please_ , could you send someone to fix it?” He wrinkled his forehead, pleading. “Or a policeman, or..”

A whirring sound came from the outside, quiet but yet so distinct that the little boy could hear it. He pursed his lips, not content that someone would interrupt his very important plea to Santa. It grew louder and louder, airy and eerily, and then there was a loud cracking sound that was entirely different, like a lot of wood breaking all at once. His eyes snapped open. A window crashed. He turned around to look out the window behind him, hands still pressed together. Whatever had made that crash, he’d better have a look at it. “Back in a moment.”

He pushed himself up off his bed, and grabbed a torch of his bedside table. Tugging away the curtains, he peeked outside the window and saw a big thing, a box, for the lack of a better word for it, had fallen; there must have been no other way, directly on top of what used to be a garden shed, smashing it to pieces. He’d never seen such a box before, it was tall, maybe about 2 metres, and at the top there were letters, shining brightly, capital letters reading: ‘POLICE PUBLIC CALL BOX’.

He relaxed his face a little, and looked up towards the sky, murmuring: “Thank you, Santa”. He ran downstairs, quickly grabbing a woolly red cardigan, it was night time after all, and left the house, firmly holding the torch in his right hand. He walked quickly towards the former garden shed. There were noises in the night but he continued walking as if he hadn’t heard them at all. He stepped on a twig, but barely gave a second glance to the loud snap.

He could see the box up close now, it was dark blue and lying on its side, and most definitely bigger than he had first assumed. It was about as wide as he was tall, and maybe three metres tall, or, more appropriately, since it was laying on its side and all, it was one metre tall and three metres wide. But this might all be not very accurate, it was probably more an estimation, and the boy did have more pressing matters on his mind. The box had windows underneath the lettering, which were shining brightly, emitting a yellow glow. The box was smoking as well, a lot, coloured yellow by the soft light coming from the windows.

He furrowed his brows, trying to figure what exactly he was seeing, as the top side of the box opened, releasing a big dense cloud of smoke. A grappling hook flew out of the box, with a lot more energy than it should be able to have. Inadvertently, he flinched, and took a step back, waiting for whatever was in there throwing grappling hooks to emerge.

The smoke dispersed a little, and a hand appeared, a big hand, clutching at the edge, then another. Finally, a face popped over the edge, completely drenched, his hair completely messed up and hanging in wet strands in front of his face. He was panting, as if he’d run a marathon, but he obviously couldn’t have. The box was tiny, after all. He pointed his flashlight at the hands, the face, to be able to see better. A man in a box.

The man looked at him, confused and spoke: “Can I have an apple? All I can think about – apples! I love apples. Maybe I’m having a craving! That’s new, never had cravings before.” The boy just stood there, silently, as the man heaved himself across the edge, noisily, throwing one leg over it. He was wearing a light blue shirt, a brown tie with some pattern on it, pinstriped trousers and white converse.

“Wooow” he exclaimed, looking back into the box. “Look at that.” What exactly _was_ there to look at? Finally, the little boy spoke up. “Are you ok?” Compared to the man, his voice was thick with an accent, unheard of in this area. “Just had a fall.” The man replied, the way someone would comment on the weather. He swung his other leg across the edge as well. His trousers were ripped at the knees. “All the way down there right to library. Hell of a climb back up.” – “You’re soaking wet.” – “I was in the swimming pool.” He retorted. “You said you were in the library.” The boy countered, confused. “So was the swimming pool.”

“Are you a policeman?” His box said ‘Police’, after all, don’t mind the libraries or swimming pools or whatever. “Why?” The man leaned forward a little. “Did you call a policeman?” – “Did you come about the crack in my wall?” The man wrinkled his forehead. “What crack-ahh” He screamed, and fell to the ground. The boy moved his flashlight onto him again. “Are you alright, Mister?”

He clutched at his heart and screamed again, “No I’m fine, this is perfectly– ahh- normal.” He said between clenched teeth. He coughed, and gold dust came out of his mouth, not really dust, more like something else, it was glowing, and quickly dispersed into the air. He looked at it, fascinated. Well, this was all rather weird, and the boy thought to ask another question. “Who are you?” He looked mildly intrigued, not at all concerned by the man who, perhaps, probably, just fell from the sky in front of his house only moments ago.

The man lifted his hands, examining them, as more of this golden dust, for the lack of a better word for it, seemed to simply _come_ out of his hands, just like breath would leave your mouth on a cold winter’s day. He looked up again, and replied. “I don’t know yet. I’m still cooking.” _Cooking?_ The boy wrinkled his nose. _What kind of man-?_ “Does it scare you?” the man inquired. The boy shrugged. “No, it just looks a bit weird.”

“Ah, no, no, no, the crack in your wall, does it scare you?” – “Yes” he nodded eagerly, didn’t he know that if he’d been sent by Santa? The man smiled, and jumped to his feet in one fluid motion. “Well then. No time to loose. I’m the Doctor. Do everything I tell you. Don’t ask stupid questions. And don’t wander off.” He finished, still panting slightly, with a small smile on his face. Determinedly, he turned around and started walking, but was stopped short by a tree.

The boy stood over him, looking down. “You alright?” – “Early days. Steering’s a bit off.”

 

* * *

 

They had successfully managed the trip to the kitchen, no more trees jumping out in front of them. “If you’re a doctor, why does your box say ‘Police’?” the boy enquired, holding out an apple towards the man. He took a big bite of it, chewed twice before spitting it out on the floor. The boys head perked up. “That’s disgusting, what is that?” he said accusingly, holding the apple into the boy’s face. “An apple?” – “Apples’ rubbish I hate apples.” – “But you said you loved them?” He had, didn’t he? “No, no, no.” He looked around the kitchen. “I love yoghurt, yoghurt’s my favourite. Give me yoghurt!”

The boy merely shrugged and ran towards the fridge, eagerly, to fetch some yoghurt. The man grabbed the little plastic container out of his hands, ripped of the seal and chugged it down his throat. Not even a second later, he had spit it out again, right next to the bite of the apple on the floor. “I hate yoghurt, it’s _stuff_ , with _bits_ in.” – “You said it was your favourite?” the boy double-checked. He had heard him right, hadn’t he? “New mouth.” He wiped across his face with his hand, unsuccessfully, though, simply smearing it further across his chin.

“New rules.” He continued, as if it were the most normal thing on the planet. “It’s like eating after cleaning your teeth, everything tastes wrooong-ahhhhhrghh” He screamed, as if in pain, squirming on the spot, smacking his hand against his face loudly.

“What is it, what’s wrong with you?” – “Wrong with me? It’s not my fault, why can’t you give me any decent food? Give me something nice!” The boy bit his lip and stared at the cabinets. _Something nice…_ He scrunched his nose, then inhaled sharply and dashed back to the fridge. _Ddeokboki!_ There was still some leftover in the fridge, and, honestly, there was no way he couldn’t like that!

“Ddeokboki!” The doctor cried, excitedly, as the boy warmed up the meal on the stove. “ _Ddeokboki!_ There we go, now _that’s_ something.” He slammed his fist against the table, holding a pair of chopsticks tightly. The boy sent him a shy smile, and put the Ddeokboki on a plate, passing it to him. He lifted a rice cake to his mouth, and chewed excitedly. Once. The boy chuckled expectantly, surely this would- Then he spat it out, distorting his face as he used his hands to remove the rice cake from his mouth. “That’s Ddeokboki. Are you trying to poison me?“ He tilted his head and squinted his eyes, as if to get a better look at the boy sitting opposite him. The boy’s eyes darted up and down between the food and the Doctor.

 _Kimchi_. He nodded to himself. _Kimchi fried rice_. _That would be it._ ”Ahh, yes!” The Doctor nodded, watching him cook the rice. “Kimchi!”

At least this time, he went over to the sink to spit out the food. “Kimchi is evil.” He stated, still bent over the sink. _What a waste.._ The boy frowned, appalled. “Bad, bad kimchi.” The boy furrowed his brows, lightly tapping his fingers against his lips.

“Bread and butter.” The Doctor nodded approvingly. “Now you’re talking.” But he barely took a bite, before he took the entire plate, running out of the kitchen. The boy barely raised an eyebrow, not really expecting any different. Distantly, he heard the Doctor open the front door, yelling something and a smashing noise.

This was a tough one, really. He opened the fridge again and searched inside. “I’ve got some carrots..” The Doctor was pacing up and down the kitchen. “Carrots?” He turned sharply on his heels. “Are you insane?!” The boy rolled his eyes and began closing the fridge again. “No, wait! Hang on, I know what I need.. I need.. I .. NEED-“ He pushed the boy out of the way, and opened the freezer compartment. “Fish fingers” he mumbled to himself, “and custard!”

He quickly set to work, busying himself about the kitchen. The boy pursed his lips and sat down with some ice cream.

Not too long after, the Doctor dipped a fish finger into the custard, some of the dense liquid dripping of it as he stuffed it into his mouth. He hummed while chewing, and lifted the bowl of custard to his mouth, taking a few big gulps. The boy ate another spoonful of ice cream. When the Doctor put the bowl back down, he was smiling happily, not minding moustache of custard around his upper lip which he wiped off with the back of his hand.

“Funny.” The boy stated in a dry voice. Because, what wasn’t funny about this man who had crashed in his garden in big blue box, claiming to have a library and a swimming pool in there. “Am I?” He asked while chewing. “Good. Funny’s good. What’s your name?” – “Min Yoongi.” He answered in one breath. “Aww! That’s a brilliant name! Min Yoongi.” He repeated, stretching out the vowels. “Like a name in a fairy tale. Are we in Daegu, Yoongi?”

He sighed. “No. Had to move down South, to Jeonggwan-myeon, which is rubbish.” He pursed his lips in distaste. “So what about your mum and dad, then. They upstairs? Thought we would have woken them by now.” Yoongi looked down at his spoon of ice cream for a moment before answering. “Don’t have a mum and dad. Just an aunt.” The Doctor nodded, thoughtfully, and replied: “I don’t even have an aunt.” He giggled slightly. “You’re lucky!” – “I know.”

“So, your aunt. Where is she?” He dipped another fish finger into the custard. “She’s out.” He raised his eyebrows, licking the custard of the fish. “And she’s left you all alone?” Yoongi rolled his eyes. “I’m not scared.” He pointed out. “Course you're not, you're not scared of anything! Box falls out of the sky, man falls out of a box, man eats fish custard!” He paused to take another bite. “And look at you... just sitting there. So you know what I think?” – “What?” He crooked his head to one side. “Must be a hell of a scary crack in your wall.” Yoongi blinked slowly, and gulped.

 

* * *

 

 

The Doctor overtook Yoongi when he opened the door leading to his room. With quick steps, he walked towards the big crack in the wall, hunching forward to get a closer look. Yoongi watched him from the door. “You’ve got some cowboys in here. Not _actual_ cowboys, though, that _can_ happen.” He mused, as if he’d made a joke. Yoongi picked up an apple from his bedside table. “Used to hate apples, so my mum put faces on them.” He turned it over in his hand, looking down at the simple smiley face carved into the skin. He walked over to the Doctor, his hand stretched out.

The skin of the apple was bright red, with a green spot, colours fading into each other. One of the eyes was carved a little wonkily. He took it, and said: “She sounds good, your mum. I’ll keep it for later.” He tossed the apple into the air, catching it with the same hand, and stuck into his pocket.

“This wall is solid and the crack doesn’t go all the way through it.” He bent over Yoongi’s desk again, which stood in front of the light blue wall, pressing his fingers against the crack, slowly sliding them across. “So here’s a thing, where is the draft coming from?”

He pulled a silver device out of his pocket, pressing a button, which made one end light up blue, and Yoongi could hear a loud sizzling noise. The Doctor held the thin object to his face and pressed another button. “Wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey.” He exhaled. “You know what the crack is?” – What?” Yoongi shook his head. “It’s a _crack_. But I’ll tell you something funny, if you knocked this wall down, the crack would stay put, because the crack isn’t in the wall..” His voice trailed off. Yoongi turned to face the wall. “Where is it, then?”

“Everywhere.. in everything, it’s a split in the skin of the world.” He slowly moved his index finger along the crack again. “Two parts of space and time that should never have touched.. pressed together” He tapped his fingers on either side of the crack, his eyes slowly wandering over towards the boy. “Right here in the wall of your bedroom.” The Doctor pressed his ear against the crack again. “Sometimes, can you hear-“ – “A voice? Yes.” He nodded fearfully.

Suddenly, the Doctor turned around and fetched a glass from Yoongi’s bedside table, startling for a moment when he saw that there was still some water inside. He shrugged and spilled it over his shoulder, looking behind him as if to see where it went. He held the open side of the glass against the wall, and pressed his ear against the bottom.

 _Prisoner Zero .. has escaped!_ “Prisoner Zero..” – “Prisoner Zero has escaped.” Yoongi finished for him. “That’s what I heard. What does it mean?” He asked the man who fell out of the sky and seemed to have all the answers in the world. The Doctor listened to the sentence once more, then leaned back and dropped his hands to his sides. “It means that on the other side of this wall there is a prison. And they have lost a prisoner. And you know what that means?”

He turned his head, eyes darting back and forth from Yoongi and the crack. “You need a better wall.” He lifted Yoongi’s desk up and carried it a few feet away. “The only way to close a breach is to open it all the way. The forces will invert, and it will snap itself shut.” He paused. ”Or…” He was trailing off, mulling thoughts. “What?” The Doctor turned around, and eyed Yoongi with a serious face.

“You know when grown-ups tell you ‘everything’s gonna be fine’ and you think they’re probably lying to make you feel better?” – “Yes.” Yoongi rolled his eyes. “Everything’s gonna be fine.” The Doctor said with wide eyes, taking Yoongi’s small hand into his own.

Together, they turned towards the crack in the wall, and the Doctor took out his strange device again. It was shaped almost like a pen, but it most certainly wasn’t one. He pressed a button on its side, triggering the blue light and the noise again. He peeked out behind his back, to see the crack in his wall open, stretching further and further, with a light coming off the edges, to reveal a dark room behind it. Faintly, he could see some thin metal shining in the dark. He clutched the Doctor’s hand more tightly.

The glow faded to a slight glimmer across the edges when the crack was fully opened; it was maybe half a metre wide. “Prisoner Zero has escaped”, the same deep voice sounded out again, twice. “Hello?” The doctor called. “Heelloo?” All of a sudden, a big eyeball appeared right in front of the opening, a blue eye, frantically moving, looking around, before focusing right on them. Yoongi was frozen on his feet and gasped. “What’s that?” A flash of light shot from the eye towards the doctor and hit him in his side.

The crack began closing again, quicker this time than it opened, and the glowing ceased once the two pieces of wall touched each other again. “There, you see, told you it’d close. Good as new.” He began digging in his pocket. “What’s that thing? Was that.. prisoner Zero?” – “No, I think that was prisoner Zero’s guard, whatever it was, it sent me a message.” He raised a leather wallet in the air. “Psychic Paper, takes a lovely little message. ” He explained, sitting down on Yoongi’s bed. “Prisoner Zero has escaped.” He read out.

“But why tell us?” He looked up. “Unless..” he got up again, springs squeaking as he did. “Unless what?” Couldn’t this man finish his sentences? “Unless prisoner Zero escaped through here..” He looked around, as if prisoner Zero would simply pop up. “But it couldn’t have. We’d know.” His eyes darted around the room, before he sprinted out into the hallway.

The hallway was long, stretched out along a thin staircase, one pair of stairs going up next to Yoongi’s room, and another going down, on the opposite end. Quite a few doors went off this hallway. Five, no, in fact it was six. The Doctor turned on his heels, his back to one of the doors and facing Yoongi’s. “It’s difficult, brand new me, nothing works yet, but there’s something I’m missing.” His eyes trailed along the frame of the door to Yoongi’s room. The boy didn’t move an inch. “In the corner” he began turning his head, slowly, ever so slowly, “of my eye” he looked at one of the doors on the far end of the hallway. His nose twitched.

A loud bell, not quite a church, rang through the night, he shot his head in the opposite direction, staring out of the window, into the garden, where his box was still laying on top the former garden shed, _bang, bang, bang_ , it rang deeply, and the Doctor replied, “No, no, no, NO, NO, NOO” and ran through the hallway, down the stairs, Yoongi just behind him. “I GOTTA GET BACK IN THERE.” He screamed, throwing the front door wide open. “THE ENGINES ARE PHASING, IT’S GONNA BURN.” “But, it’s just a box, how can a box have engines-“ Yoongi was panting, the Doctor was a fast runner. “It’s not a box, it’s a time machine.” He replied, pulling the grappling hook out of the earth.

“What, a real one? You’ve got a real time machine?” The Doctor tied the rope to one of the door handles. “Not for much longer if I can’t get it stabilised. Five minute hop into the future-“ he threw the end of the rope inside his box- “should do it.” – “Can I come?” Yoongi asked, hopeful. “Not yet, it’s not safe yet, five minutes! I’ll be right back!” He hopped onto the edge of the box. “People always say that.” Yoongi dug the tip of his slipper into the ground, looking straight at the man. His head shot back around, the heart-shaped lips parted slightly.

He threw his legs back over the edge again and jumped off, walking towards Yoongi and crouching down to his height, not breaking eye contact. “Am I people? Do I even look like people?” His eyebrows were raised in earnest. “Trust me. I’m the Doctor.” And Yoongi did, allowing a small smile, as the Doctor jumped back onto the edge. He looked around one last time, and jumped off, shouting “Geronimoooo!” There was no sound of him landing, the rope simply kept running, until it pulled both doors shut with a loud bang.

Almost immediately, the whirring sound, the same that had interrupted his plea to Santa earlier, began again, and Yoongi noticed a light at the top of the box, the roof, he guessed, which began lightening up, and darkening, in time to the airy sound, until finally the box turned invisible. He smiled, wider, excited, and his cheeks became even rounder.

For a heartbeat, he stood there, staring the destroyed garden shed, then spun around and ran back towards the house. He ran upstairs, through the hallway, past all the doors until he reached his own, and pulled a small suitcase out from under his bed, quickly packing a few essentials, clothes and his teddy bear. He ran to fetch something from another room, running so quickly that he didn’t notice the sixth door having opened a foot wide.

He laid his mother’s red, woolly scarf on top, closing the clasps on the suitcase, and ran with it back through the hallway. He was already focusing on which coat to pick, which coat would be most useful for a travelling with a _time machine_ of all things, his warmest one probably, just in case; his mind was so occupied, his feet carrying him blindly through the hallway, that he didn’t see the door at the end of the hallway, didn’t see it at all, even though it was now wide open, wide open and revealing a dark blue tapestry, slightly worn, just like one in the hallway.

A bird hooted as Yoongi closed the front door behind him, forgetting the lights, all of the lights, as he ran down the garden towards the shed, past all the bushes. He placed his small suitcase on the ground, it was cream coloured with red edges, and sat on top, smiling happily at the empty space where the time machine, with the Doctor inside, would appear soon. His red woolly hat was pulled far down his head, but was slightly too big for him, the top of the hat sticking up slightly. _Any moment, now_.

He ran his hands across the blue gloves he was wearing. _Any moment, now._ He was still in his pyjamas, the trousers sticking out from between his coat and his wellies. He faced away from the house, and therefore did not see the shadow, hushing through the kitchen past the drawn curtains. The clock in the kitchen kept ticking, one hand now pointing between the 11 and 12, the other, longer one, pointing at the 6, it was 11:30. _Any moment, now._

 

* * *

 

 

It was daytime, when the whirring, whizzing, sound was heard again. It was daytime, and twenty past ten, according to the white face of clock in Min Yoongi’s kitchen, its face mounted on top of an equally circular piece of wood. But that wasn’t the only thing wrong.

He’d managed to land the right way up with time, the Doctor did, as well as not destroy something in the meantime. He clambered out of the door, a tissue, red, pressed against his nose and mouth, engulfed in a big cloud of white smoke. The inside of his box was still glowing bright yellow, bright orange. The Doctor was still wearing the same clothes as he did when he left, half of the shirt tucked in, tie loosened, collar barely attached to the shirt anymore. He coughed and looked around, shouting, “Yoongi!”

Immediately, he started for the door, shouting “Yoongi, I worked out what it was! I know what I was missing, you gotta get out of there!” At the door, he tried the handle and then settled for his strange device again, pointing it at the lock, causing it to sizz and hum, before the door finally opened. He ran upstairs. “Yoongi? Yoongi? Are you all right? Are you there?” He arrived at the hallway, the hallway on the second floor, the hallway with the five, no, six doors.

He turned towards the sixth door, pointing his device at the handle, but this time didn’t try to open it. He stared intently at the side of the device, as if reading something off, and then muttered to himself: “Prisoner Zero is here.” Once more, he shouted:” Prisoner Zero is here! Prisoner Zero is here! Do you understand me? Prisoner Zero is here!”

The last thing he heard was a door squeaking, the joints clearly not having been greased well. He turned around and was hit by something over the head, blacking out.

 

* * *

 

 

An ambulance stopped in front of the hospital, the sirens still going. Inside the hospital, a nurse and a doctor, another one not at all like the other Doctor, were rushing somewhere, but for entirely different reasons. The nurse was a man, or not quite; grown-up, but not completely, maybe about 19 years old. He was wearing blue scrubs, with a mint green name tag attached to the bottom of his shirt. His skin was fair, his hair was dyed brown, with black roots showing, his eyes were curved like crescents when he smiled. But he wasn’t smiling right now.

The doctor was a woman, walking two steps ahead of him. She wore a navy suit, jacket and skirt, and a light blue collared shirt. She also had a name tag, but hers was attached to the pocket of her jacket. Her skin was darker than the nurse’s, her hair was black and smooth, tightened behind her head in a bun. Resting on her big nose was a thin pair of black-rimmed glasses.

They left the corridor, green tiles about a metre high, then cream-coloured paint, and entered a big ward with four beds on either side. The walls were painted a stingy mint green, not at all calming on the eyes. But that wasn’t of much importance, because the patients were all in a coma. Tubes connected their noses with machines; cables ran from and to their heart, regular beeping noises came from every bed, drips connected to their veins.

The pair walked up to a bed, the doctor reaching for the file at the foot end. “So, they all called out at once? That’s what you’re saying?” The nurse nodded, and looked away. The doctor took another breath, and carried on. “All of them? All the _coma_ patients? You do understand that these people are all _comatose_ , don’t you? They can’t _speak_.” The nurse gulped, and agreed, “Yes, doctor, but-“ – “Then why are you wasting my time?” Urgently, he continued. “Because they called for you.”

The doctor turned to look at him, head slightly raised, since she was shorter. “Me?” She said, almost laughing. The nurse shrugged, and nodded. _They had._

Just then, a deep voice croaked out, right behind them “Doctor”. The doctor’s eyes widened. Slowly, they both turned to look over their shoulder, to see the man in the bed speak again: “Doctor” He had grey hair, a big bold patch, a round, chubby face with cheeks reddened irreversibly by one too many pints a while ago and stubble had been growing from his sideburns, down his jaw to his protruding neck.

“Doctor” the woman in the bed they were standing at, called out. “Doctor” Her hair was short and kempt, dark brown hair, skin paled by a lack of sunlight. “Doctor” a child’s voice called out. “Doctor” another patient whispered. “Doctor, doctor” a chorus began, and the comatose patients all began moving their lips, “Doctor”. “Doctor, doctor, doctor”

 

* * *

 

 

In another place, certainly not quite where he last remembered being, the Doctor, a slightly different one, woke up. He was leaning against a radiator, eyes hazy, when he heard a voice. “Asian male, mid-twenties, breaking and entering, Sergeant, send back-up, I’ve got him restrained.” A police man leaned against the bannister of the staircase, speaking into his radio. He was wearing tight black shorts, hair tucked underneath a black beret, a bulletproof vest on top of a white shirt, both sleeves rolled up to his elbows. “Oi!” The policeman fixated his eyes on him. “You sit still.” He spat out each consonant.

The Doctor cleared his throat, eyes fluttering shut once more. “Ok, that, I’m getting.. a baseball bat?” The policeman raised his eyebrows, and replied sharply: “You were breaking and entering.” He couldn’t be much older than 19, his face somewhere between having been shaped by time and not touched at all. _Breaking and entering, yes, yes he was! Yoongi!_ He tried to get up, he had to find the boy, but was stopped short, yanked back by something on his wrist. Handcuffs. He was handcuffed to the radiator.

“Woah, that’s much better, brand new me, a whack on the head, just what I needed.” He pulled at the handcuffs. No chance. “Do you want to shut up now, I’ve got back-up on the way.” The policeman said, dismissively, turning away. “Hang on, no, wait, you’re a policeman.” – “And you were breaking and entering, you see how this works?” He gestured in between them.

“But, but what are you doing here, where’s Yoongi?” His eyes wavered, uncertain, when he asked back. “Min Yoongi?” The Doctor nodded. “Yeah. Little Daegu boy. Where is he? I promised him five minutes, but the engines were phasing, I suppose I must have gone a bit far..” he trailed off. There was definitely recognition in the eyes of the policeman, recognition, and maybe fear, but why. “Has something happened to him?”

“Min Yoongi hasn’t lived here in a very long time.” He replied in a single breath. The Doctor furrowed his brows, “How long?” he asked impatiently. “Six months.” The policeman’s eyes were wide and his voice was small. “No!” The Doctor groaned, throwing his head back against the radiator. “No, no, NO, NOO, no, I can’t be six months late, I said five minutes, I promised.” He sniffed once.

The policeman grabbed his radio of his vest and turned away. “What happened to him, what happened to Min Yoongi?” The Doctor asked, raising his voice as the policeman walked towards the end of the hallway.

“Sergeant, it’s me again, hurry it up. This guy knows something about Min Yoongi.”

 

* * *

 

 

The doctor, the _other_ doctor, bent over the man with the reddened cheeks, the podgy neck, and forced his eye open. The eyeball didn’t move and just stared ahead blankly, the iris a deep dark brown. “I don’t think they were even conscious.” The doctor stated, shutting the patient’s eye again.

The nurse looked over at the bedside table, at the two photos in silver frames. The one on the right showed a big dog sitting on its hind legs, black fur, square head, he wasn’t sure what bread it was, the black fur lightening to brown fur on his paws and snout, tip of the pink tongue sticking out. The photo on the left showed the same dog, being hugged by the man lying in bed; he was wearing a dark blue jacket with a light blue coloured shirt, a smile stretching his cheeks. In front of the two frames were a brown collar and a metal chain, a leash, he supposed, some relatives believed that familiar things, or smells, could aid a recovery.

The beeping measuring his heart beat, steadily and rhythmically, when the nurse inhaled, preparing himself for his next sentence. “Dr Ramsden, there is another, sort of, um, funny thing,-“ – “Yes, I know.” His superior cut in. “Dr Kim told me about your conversation.. We’ve been very patient with you Jimin,-“ _No, no!_ , he opened his mouth in protest- “You’re a good enough nurse, but for god’s sake-“ – “I’ve seen them!” – “These patients are under 24 hour supervision, we know if their _blood_ pressure changes, there is _no_ possibility that you could have seen them wandering about the village, _why_ are you giving me your phone?”

He held out his phone, in a bulky black case, camera roll opened. “It’s a camera, too.” The doctor sighed, and reached out her hand towards it, when her pager beeped, signalling her to attend another patient. She checked the numbers on the display. “You need to take some time off, Jimin, a _lot_ of time off-“ The nurse’s breath hitched, he tried to reply, intersect, justify- “Starting now! NOW!” The doctor bellowed. The nurse lowered his hands, nodded slowly. He was dismissed from this conversation; that much was obvious. He walked away.

 

* * *

 

 

“I need to speak to whoever lives in this house, right now!” The Doctor said, his legs crossed. The policeman put his hands on his hips. “ _I_ live here.” – “But, you’re police-“ The Doctor frowned. “Yes, and this is where I live, you got a problem with that?” His voice was snappy, irritated. “How many rooms?” The Doctor asked. “What?” – “How many rooms, on this floor, how many rooms, count them for me _now_.” His face had gone serious. “Why?” _We’re not going to get_ anywhere _like this._ “Because it will change your life.” The policeman stopped for a second, never breaking eye contact, before answering. “Five.”

“One, two, three, four, five.” He pointed at every door. “Six.”, the Doctor objected. “Six?”, the policeman snorted. “Look.” – “Look where?” His voice was growing uncertain. “Exactly where you don’t want to look, where you never want to look, the _corner_ of your eye, look behind you..” Slowly, the policeman turned around, eyes jumping, turning to face the sixth door.

“That’s” he gulped. “That is not possible. How’s that possible?” – “There is a perception filter all around the door, sensed it last time I was here, I should have _seen_ it.” The policeman shook his head lightly. “But that’s a whole room. That’s a _whole_ room I’ve never even noticed.” – “The filter stopped you form noticing.” The Doctor supplied. “Something came here, a while ago, to hide, and it’s still hiding; and you _need_ to uncuff me now!”

He watched the policeman walk, one step after the other, as if in trance, eyes never wavering from the door he’d never noticed before. “I don’t have the key I lost it.” He murmured, eyes wide. “HOW could you have lost it? Stay away from that door!” He continued walking. “Okay, do not touch that door!” He stretched out a hand towards the door handle, a thin golden watch strapped to his thin wrist. “Listen to me, do not _open_ that-“ He twisted the handle, and the Doctor threw his hand, his free hand, over his head. “Why does no one ever listen to me, do I just have a face that nobody listens to?” The policeman opened the door, it squeaked lightly, and walked inside.

“Again..” the Doctor mumbled to himself, and began digging in his trouser pockets. “My screwdriver, where is it, silver thing with blue at the end, where did it go?” He shouted. “There’s nothing here.” The policeman called, as if to calm himself. “Whatever is in there stopped you seeing the _whole room_ , what makes you think you can see it? Now, _please_ , just get out!” – “Silver thing, blue at the end?” he called out tentatively. “My screwdriver, yeah.” The Doctor nodded. “It’s here.” The Doctor’s eyes widened, “Must have rolled under the door.” He did scan the door, earlier.

“Yeah, must have.” He heard the policeman say, almost in a singsong. “And then it must have jumped up on a table.” His mouth fell open. “Get out of there. GET OUT OF THERE!” Still no sign of the policeman. “GET OUT!!” He was shouting, now. “GET OUT OF THERE!” He pulled forward, tugging at the handcuffs, trying to peek inside the room, the room that _wasn’t_ a room, not really.

“What is it, what are you doing?” His hand tousled his hair, tugging desperately. “There’s nothing here, but-“ His voice stopped again. “Corner of your eye.” He reminded. “Don’t try to see it; if it knows you’ve seen it, it will kill you.” Could he hear a gasp coming from the room? “ Don’t look at it, do _not_ look!”

“What is it, what are you doing?” His hand tousled his hair, tugging desperately. “There’s nothing here, but-“ His voice stopped again. “Corner of your eye.” He reminded. “Don’t try to see it; if it knows you’ve seen it, it will kill you.” Could he hear a gasp coming from the room? “ Don’t look at it, do _not_ look!”

“Will that door hold it?” – “Oh yeah, _yeah_ , course! It's an interdimensional multi-form from outer space; they're all _terrified_ of wood!” Mister Policeman obviously didn’t appreciate sarcasm as much as he should, and threw him an annoyed look.

The door began glowing, and he could hear a humming, at first faint but then growing, like when switching on an old-fashioned computer, just a very big one. He began rubbing at his screwdriver, trying to remove the goo. “What’s that? What’s it doing?” He looked up again. “I don’t know.” He shifted back towards his screwdriver. “Getting dressed, run, just go, your back-up’s coming, I’ll be fine-” – “There is no back-up.” He spat out.

“But you were on your radio, you called your back-up!” “I was pretending, it’s a pretend radio” He shot back, nervously. “But you’re a policeman” The Doctor frowned. “I’m a Kissogram!” The other groaned, taking of his beret and ruffling through his bright blonde hair.

The humming from behind the door grew louder and louder, and the door broke down, fell straight out of its frame. Standing in the door were a man and his dog, the man almost bold, wearing a blue overall, light blue shirt, yellow belt, a builder’s belt, holding his dog by a metal leash. The dog was black, mostly, with brown paws and a brown speck on its snout, a pink tongue poking out of its muzzle.

They walked towards them, oddly synchronised, lifting feet and paws simultaneously. “But it’s just-“ The policeman who wasn’t a policeman gaped. “No it isn’t” The Doctor insisted. “Look at the faces!” Both, dog and man, were both pulling the same face, so to speak, staring ahead blankly. Then they began barking, no, the man began barking, growling, while the dog didn’t move an inch.

“What?! I’m sorry, but _what_?!” The not-policeman choked a little. “It’s all one creature, one creature disguised as two.” The barking stopped, and both the dog and the man turned their heads, left, right, left, right. “Clever old multi-form..” They _were_ clever, really, but he didn’t appreciate it this much right now.

“A bit of a rusty job, though, got the voice a bit muddled, did you?” Both heads snapped back ahead. “Mind you, where did you get the pattern from, you need a-a psychic link, a live-feed, how d’you fix that?”

The man lifted the corners of his mouth, pulling his forehead in the opposite direction, and growled again, so heavily, that his entire neck wobbled.

 

* * *

 

 

Not too far away in a hospital bed, another man, probably not the same man, kind of more the _only_ man, began twitching his arms; showing the second sign of consciousness on this day, which must be some kind of record for a comatose person.

 

* * *

 

 

The man-dog walked towards them, slowly, the dog’s ears twitching. The man opened his mouth again, this time however, instead of regular teeth he revealed a set of long and thin teeth, fangs, and his pupils dilated. “Stay away!” The Doctor shouted.

“Apparently we’re safe, wanna know why? Because-“ He tapped at the floor in front of non-policeman’s feet “he sent for back-up!” – “I didn’t send for back-up!” the Blonde shouted. “I know, that was a clever lie to save our lives.“ The Doctor said out of the corner of his mouth. “Okay, yeah, _noo_ back-up, and that’s why we’re safe, alone we’re not a threat to you, but if we _had_ back-up, you’d have to kill us.” His voice sounded more certain than he felt, a skill he’d perfected over the years.

“Attention, prisoner Zero!” A deep voice sounded, like before in the crack. Both heads of the man-dog jerked up, searching for its source. “ The human residence is surrounded. Attention, prisoner Zero!” The fake policeman whispered, “What’s that?” – “That would be back-up.” The Doctor replied dryly. “Okay, one more time, we do have back-up, and that’s _definitely_ why we’re safe!” The voice continued: “Prisoner Zero will vacate the human residence, or the human residence will be incinerated!” The Doctor raised his eyebrows. “Well, safe, you know, apart from incineration.”

The man-dog, or dog-man, entered the room to his left, and the Doctor felt his heart rise a little. He hit his screwdriver against the floor, over and over, “Oh, come on now, work, work!” as the deep voice repeated, continuously “Attention, prisoner Zero! Prisoner Zero will vacate the human residence, or the human residence will be incinerated!” One last hit, he pushed the button, and the screwdriver started buzzing. He pointed it at the handcuff, which sprang open within a second.

“Run!” He got up, “Run!”, he grabbed the other’s wrist, shoving him forwards. Finally, he started running, to the end of the corridor down the stairs. The Doctor stopped at the door that the dog-man entered, peeking inside. The creature was standing the window, looking out, searching.

The fake policeman swung open the door, the Doctor on his heels. He shut the door, locking it with his screwdriver. “Kissogram?” The Doctor asked. He had all, well, most, of the knowledge in time and space, and _not_ knowing something irked him to no end. “Yes, a Kissogram!” He replied, as if that was obvious. “Then _why_ did you pretend to be a policeman?” He stared directly into the Blonde’s face, moving closer, as if the answer would be somewhere there.

“You broke into my house, it was either this or a French Maid. What’s going on, tell me!” The Doctor headed through the garden towards his box. “Tell me!” He’d reached the blue doors, turned around and huffed: “An alien convict is hiding in your spare room, disguised as a man and a dog, and some other aliens are about to incinerate your house, any questions?” _How_ was this not obvious, _where_ did he have his eyes? “Yes.” The fake-policeman-almost-french-maid snapped. “Me, too.” The doors of his time machine wouldn’t open. “No, no, NO, NO, don’t do that, not _now_ , it’s still rebuilding, not letting us in!” He slammed his hands against the doors, pleading, but to no avail.

The barking started up again, the creature had opened the window, this time both heads were moving. It was _getting better_. The deep voice still continued, _where_ was it coming from? The Blonde grabbed his wrist, dragging him away. “Come on!” And there, out of the corner of his eye, the Doctor saw something. The shed. The garden shed he’d landed on, the last time. “Wait! Hang on, wait, wait, WAIT!” He freed his wrist. _Something was wrong here._ “The shed. I destroyed that shed, last time I was here, smashed it to pieces.” He ran up to the shed, pressing his hands against the wood, sniffing the wooden boards. “So? There’s a new one, let’s go!” “But the new one is old, it’s ten years old at least!” He ran his finger along the shed and licked it.

“12 years.” He corrected himself. “I’m not six months late, I’m 12 years late.” He stared at the blonde. He looked nervous, wide eyes, rambling on about the dog-man. “You said six months. Why did you say six months?” – “He’s coming!” – “This matters! This is important! Why did you say _six months_?” The Blonde fidgeted on the spot, torn between running away and staying, when he snapped at him. “WELL, WHY DID YOU SAY FIVE MINUTES?”

 _His Daegu accent._ How had he not heard it before? “What?” He blinked, his brain putting the pieces together. “Come on!” The Blonde demanded again as the Doctor stood there, frozen. “What?” – “COME ON!” He grabbed his wrist again, dragging him back through the garden past the front door – which was open, the man-with-dog standing here, ready to pounce, barking – “What?” – They were running down the street in front of the house.

“You’re Yoongi!” He panted, once they’d stopped, facing him again, the little boy, the little boy who’d grown up, the little boy whom he’d met _twelve_ years ago. Yoongi rolled his eyes. “You’re late!” He retorted, walking away. “Min Yoongi! You’re the little boy!” He caught up with him. Yoongi turned his head and snapped: “I’m Yoongi, and you’re late!” – “What happened?” _This was impossible._ “Twelve years.” He didn’t even bother looking at him this time.

“You hit me with a baseball bat!” – “Twelve years!” he sang. “A baseball bat!” The Doctor retorted. “Twelve years, and four psychiatrists!” he continued his song. “Four?” His eyes were fixed on the little boy, who was no longer a boy. He walked faster. “I kept biting them.” He evaded. “ _Why?_ ” And then he did look at him, and answered in a small voice. “They said you weren’t real.”

They both stopped, awkwardly staring at each other, when they heard the deep voice again. “Prisoner Zero will vacate the human residence, or the human residence will be incinerated!” The Doctor snapped around. The voice was coming from an ice cream van, the owner fiddling with the radio. “No, no, no, come on! What?!” Yoongi muttered, but his voice shrieked too much for him to pull it off. “We're being staked out by an ice cream van?“

The Doctor ran towards the van, shouting. “What is that? Why are you playing that?” The owner looked at him, uncertain, chin bobbing over his pink shirt. “It's supposed to be Clair de Lune!” the man insisted, shaking his black curly hair. He grabbed the radio off the counter, pressing his ear against it. “Prisoner Zero will vacate the human residence, or the human residence will be incinerated!” He looked up, the voice had grown, it came from everywhere, from the woman opposite who had been jogging, and was taking out her headphones, staring at the display of her device, puzzled; from the phone that the old lady on the other side of the road held against her ear; -

“Repeat: Prisoner Zero will vacate the human residence, or the human residence will be incinerated!” It came from everywhere. _But why?_ “Doctor, what’s happening?” _This was bad, this was_ very _bad._

He set off to the nearest house, jumping over the fence. Yoongi followed, he just entered the garden through the door. An elderly woman was standing in the living room in front of a TV, pressing buttons at the remote. But no matter which button she pushed, the picture remained the same. A blue eye, big and twitching, repeating the same words. A very, _very_ , familiar blue eye. The Doctor barged in, startling the woman, and introduced himself. “Hello! Sorry to burst in, we’re doing a special on television faults in this area-“ Yoongi ran into the room, coming to stop next to him, smoothing a hand over his uniform. “-Also, crimes.” He carried on, eyes travelling across the badge on his chest. “Let’s have a look!” He smiled at the woman and grabbed the remote control. “I was just about to phone; it’s on every channel.” The woman nodded and turned towards Yoongi.

“Oh, hello Yoongi. You’re a policeman now?” He gulped. “Sometimes?” – “But I thought you were a nurse?” He shrugged. “I can .. be a nurse..” – “Or actually a nun?” She eyed him suspiciously. “I dabble.” He laughed, too bright, too loudly, and abruptly stopped. The lady nodded.

“Yoongi, who’s your friend?” He pursed his lips. “I know you, don’t I?” The woman carried on, turning towards the Doctor. “I’ve seen you, somewhere, before?” _These humans..!_ He leaned forwards. “Not me - brand new face!” He demonstrated, stretching his jaw and rolling his eyes. “First time on!” He looked over to Yoongi, maybe this was a time for some answers. “And what sort of job is a kissogram?”

“I go to parties, and I kiss people-“ He coughed. “With outfits.” He cleared his throat. “It’s a laugh!” – “You were a little boy five minutes ago!” – “You’re worse than my aunt.” – “I’m the Doctor, I’m worse than everybody’s aunt.” Neither broke their eye contact, for a moment or two they’d forgotten about everything else and just fought a silent battle. Then the Doctor faced the lady again, and spoke, more quietly this time. “And that is not how I'm introducing myself!” She raised her eyebrows, thin lines drawn on her skin with a brown pencil.

The radio! If whatever alien behind all this was accessing the TV channels, then- He pointed his screwdriver at the radio, changing the channels. “Répéter le prisonnier-“ –he changed channels- “muss die menschliche Residenz verlassen, sonst-“ He’d heard enough. “Okay. So it’s everywhere, in every language.. they’re broadcasting to the whole world.” And that meant-

He sprinted towards the window, pulling it open. “What’s up there, what are you looking for?” The sky was blue, the birds were singing, a few clouds, a soft breeze playing with the twigs of the tree. Nothing was wrong. He gulped.

“Okay, a planet this size, two poles, your basic molten core, they’re going to need a 40% fission blast?” He spoke quickly, it helped him think. Someone came in through the door, a young man, maybe twenty years old, maybe older, walking into the living room.

The Doctor walked up to him, staring straight into his face as he kept talking “But they'll have to power up first, won't they? So assuming a medium sized starship, that's 20 minutes. What do you think, twenty minutes? Yeah, twenty minutes. We've got twenty minutes.” The young man was wearing a blue polo shirt, dark blue, and had a short haircut, black hair, and broad, muscly, wide shoulders with a bag strapped across them. He was also very, _very_ tall, he’d had to stand on the tip of his toes to properly look him straight in the eye.

The young man stared back at him with wide eyes, frozen mid-motion, pulling out a laptop from his bag. “Twenty minutes to what?” Yoongi threw in. The Doctor took a few steps towards him. “Are you the Doctor?” a voice came from behind him, it was that fellow who’d come in. He stopped short. “He is, isn't he? He's the Doctor!” The elderly woman exclaimed, turning to look between the three. “The Raggedy Doctor. All those cartoons you did when you were little.” She turned towards Yoongi. “The Raggedy Doctor. It's him.” Yoongi cleared his throat and hissed under his breath. “Shut up!”

“Cartoons”, the Doctor repeated in distaste, throwing an odd look towards Yoongi. “Gran, it's him, isn't it? It's really him!” – “Donghyuk, shut up!” Yoongi spat out. The Doctor ignored both of them and flopped down on the leather couch opposite the TV, mustering the rapidly moving eyeball. “Twenty minutes to what?” Yoongi insisted.

The Doctor leaned forwards and folded his hands, spearing them a quick glance. “The human residence. They're not talking about your house, they're talking about the planet. Somewhere up there, there's a spaceship, and it's going to incinerate the planet.”

The TV followed his words up. “will be incinerated. Repeat, Prisoner Zero will vacate the human residence or the human residence will be incinerated.” He gulped. “Twenty minutes to the end of the world.”

 

And yes, above the atmosphere, high above the Doctor and Yoongi, there was a fleet of starship, most of them small, shaped like snowflakes, but each of the lobes were spikes, instead. And in the middle of the thousands of small starship there was a bigger one, roughly four or five times as big as the others. At the bottom of the ship there was an eyeball, darting around, observing the planet, an eyeball with a _blue_ iris; rapidly moving by itself as the starship spun around its axis.

 

* * *

 

 

A little child ran towards them on the street, a little girl presumably, short blonde hair, red hoodie, jeans, holding a helicopter in her hand and making engine noises.

“What is this place, where am I?” – “Jeonggwan-myeon.” – “Where's the rest of it?” He _knew_ human cities, and- Yoongi huffed. “This _is_ it.” He started walking to what he assumed was the centre of town, if you could even _call_ it a ‘town’. “Is there an airport?” _Infrastructure._ “No.” They passed a couple on the pavement who gave them weird looks. “A nuclear power station?” _Something to bargain with, something to defend-_ “No.” – “Not even a little one?”

Yoongi snorted, shaking his head. “Nearest city?” They walked past a post office with one of those horse machines in front of them, that you usually only find in supermarkets. Hell, the rate this was going at this place probably didn’t even have a supermarket. “Busan. One hour by car.” The Doctor puffed up his cheeks. “We don’t have an hour. Do we have a car?” – “Err, no.”

The Doctor groaned and tugged at his hair. “Well, that's good. Fantastic, that is. Twenty minutes to save the world and I've got a post office.” He waved his arm behind his back. “And it's shut.” _There must be something, surely!_ “What is that?”

They had reached a little pond, fed by a stream opposite them. It was well laid out with greens and grass around it, a little car park in front of it, all neat and tidy, but ultimately nothing there. He ran up to edge of the pond. “It’s a duck pond.” Yoongi stated, a few feet away. The Doctor turned around and walked right up to his face. “Why aren't there any ducks?” Yoongi snorted. “I don't know. There's never any ducks.” – “Then how do you know it's a duck pond?” He asked carefully.

“It just is. Is it important, the duck pond?” – “I don’t know-“ He inhaled but choked on his breath, it was as if no air entered his lungs. His body was still rebuilding, _damn it_ , it never usually took this long- “Why would I know?” He croaked, sinking to the ground. He wasn’t even sure where exactly the pain came from; it was like 1000 needles being propelled through his veins with every pulse of his hearts. “This is too soon. I'm not ready, I'm not done yet.” He coughed, lungs protesting.

Suddenly the sky darkened, the sun darkened, as if it was covered by something, instead of the usual soft yellow it was now a dark green, black veins across it, the surface bubbling. “What’s happening? Why is it going dark?” Then the green rippled, and parted to reveal a bright orange, pulsing and burning, shining brighter than before. “What's wrong with the sun?” Yoongi asked, not moving his eyes of the sky.

The Doctor got off the ground, wiping his hands on his trousers. “Nothing. You're looking at it through a force field. They've sealed off your upper atmosphere. Now they're getting ready to boil the planet.” It was all jolly-good, wasn’t it, the twenty minutes were most definitely counting. He faced away and looked across the little park, almost empty like the rest of this town, probably about ten or twenty people in the whole space.

“Oh, and here they come. The human race. The end comes, as it was always going to, _down the camera on a phone_.” The sky hadn’t even been dark for about a minute and everyone was already taking pictures of it, no, no, not quite, not-

“This isn’t real, is it? This is some kind of big wind up.” Yoongi looked at him, face not moving, voice hoarse. “Why would I wind you up?” The Doctor replied. “You told me you had a time machine.” Yoongi folded his hands over his face. “And you believed me.” – “Then I grew up,” Yoongi interjected. “Oh, you never wanna do that. No! Hang on. Shut up. Wait. I missed it. I saw it and I missed it.” He hit his head for good measure. His brain was still working slow, still setting up, rebooting. “What did I see? I saw. What did I see? I saw, I saw, I saw”

-the murky surface of the duck pond, reflecting the orb in the sky; across from it an old man, denim jacket, swollen face, big sideburns, big, BIG, enormous sideburns, more grey hair on his face than on his head, a black phone raised to the sky, taking countless pictures, one and another and another; then, a few feet behind him, a bench, wooden, brown, elderly couple sat on it, both grey clothes, white hair, one phone raised to the sky, one hand clasped over an open mouth; then, at the bright red telephone box at the other end of the park, one person inside, dark skin, dark hair, blue jumper, taking a picture of the sky even through the glass; just in front of the telephone box were two people, but, but, opposite them, was a nurse, blue scrubs with a zip-up hoodie, brown hair, pale, two pens in his front pocket, one blue one red, a mint green name tag that read ‘Park Jimin – Emergency Unit’ and featured a picture and some barcodes; and he also had one arm raised with his phone, taking a photo, but he – out off all the people around them, he – might not even have noticed the sky, he looked straight ahead at the thing no one else was looking at, straight at – a man in a blue overall, with a yellow builder’s belt, clutching at the leash of his big, black dog with dark brown paws, who in turn, was gaping at the sky. _He saw it._

The nurse was now tapping at his phone; the Doctor’s eyes sprang towards the big clock fixed to a lantern on his right. Half past eleven. Still about twenty minutes left, but only if he had guessed correctly. “Twenty minutes. I can do it. Twenty minutes, the planet burns.” He told Yoongi, who was fiddling with his shirt sleeves. “Run to your loved ones and say goodbye, or stay and help me.” Yoongi fidgeted. “No.” – “I’m sorry?” The boy who wouldn’t stay away from the room that he knew an alien was hiding in and even looked at it, knowing the risk, was now saying no? “No!” He grabbed him by his tie and dragged him towards the car park, where only a few metres away a man was just getting out of his car.

“Yoongi, no, no, what are you doing?” He pushed the Doctor with his back against the car, slamming his tie in the door, taking the keys from the driver, an elderly man who looked slightly baffled, and locked the car. _Beep, beep._ “Are you out of your mind?” The Doctor cried. _What part of_ twenty minutes _was so hard to understand?_ “Who are you?” Yoongi asked quietly, with watery eyes, face cold. “You know who I am.” – “No, really, _who_ are you?” – “Look at the sky, end of the world, twenty minutes?!”

“Well, better talk quickly, then.” Yoongi snapped. “Yoongi, I am going to need my car back.” The man interrupted, he was old, red face, almost no hair left, and the bit he still had was turning from grey to white. “Yes, in a bit. Now go and have coffee.” Yoongi didn’t even look at him. “Right, yes.” His eyes darted between the two, the man whose tie was stuck in his car and whose clothes had all seen better days, and the younger man in a short police outfit who had just taken his car key. He walked off.

 _The apple._ He reached into his pocket. “Catch!” The apple. Its skin was bright red, with a green spot, colours fading into each other. A simple smiley face was carved into it, one of the eyes a little wonky. Its origin was the hands of a little Daegu boy, in another time, who carved faces into his apples because his mum taught him to. Another Daegu boy, just slightly older, was now turning it over in his hand.

“I'm the Doctor. I'm a time traveller. Everything I told you twelve years ago is true. I'm _real_. What's happening in the sky _is_ real, and if you don't let me go right now, everything you've ever known is over.” Yoongi looked up from the apple clutched tightly in his right hand. “I don’t believe you.” The Doctor sighed and wrapped his hand around Yoongi’s wrist.

“Just twenty minutes. Just believe me for twenty minutes.” He stared at him, pleading. “Look at it. Fresh as the day you gave it to me. And you know it's the same one.” Yoongi looked back at the apple, furrowing his brows. “Yoongi, believe for twenty minutes.” His voice had gone hoarse. Yoongi opened his mouth as if to say something. Then he raised the car key and pressed the ‘unlock’ button, not moving his eyes from the Doctor. “What do we do?” He whispered.

“Stop that nurse.” The Doctor removed his tie from the door in one swift motion and began running towards the man in blue scrubs, Yoongi behind him. He reached the nurse quickly, grabbing his phone off him. “The sun's going out, and you're photographing a man and a dog. Why?” The nurse gaped at him, and then spotted Yoongi running at them. “Yoongi!”

Yoongi cleared his throat and said, slightly too enthusiastic, “Hi! Oh, this is Jimin, he's a .. friend.” A slight blush coloured his cheeks. “Boyfriend.” Jimin corrected, laughing and turning towards him. “Kind of boyfriend.” Yoongi looked away. “Yoongi!” – “Man and dog. Why?” The nurse eyed him curiously. “Oh my God, it's him.” He said more to himself, pausing between all the words. “Just answer his question, please.” Yoongi replied, not really looking at either of them.

“It's him, though. The Doctor. The Raggedy.. Doctor.“ He stuttered. “Yeah, he came back.” – “But he.. he was a story, he was a game-” _Twenty minutes, what was wrong with those people?_ The Doctor grabbed him by his hoodie and pushed him back a few feet. “Man and dog. Why? Tell me now.” The nurse gulped and replied. ” Sorry. Because he can't be there. Because he's-“ – “In a hospital, in a coma.” The Doctor finished with him.

The nurse nodded. “Yeah.” A little smile played along the Doctor’s lips. “Knew it.” He smoothed over Jimin’s hoodie. “Multiform, you see? Disguise itself as anything, but it needs a life feed. A psychic link with a living but-” He pressed his finger against Jimin’s forehead – “-dormant mind.”

A loud, very familiar bark sounded behind them. The man-dog, prisoner Zero, had gotten closer, standing a few metres away in the same static posture as before, feet wide apart, arms straight, one hand clutching at the metal leash, the dog squatting on his hind legs. “Prisoner Zero.” The Doctor greeted him. “What? There’s a prisoner Zero, too?” He heard Jimin whisper behind him. “Yes.” Yoongi confirmed shortly, interrupted by a loud whizzing noise coming from a starship descending into the atmosphere above them.

The starship was very big, and shaped like a snowflake, or an icicle, with ragged spikes coming out of the lobes. The starship was shaped like a dome almost, and at the bottom there was a big eyeball with a blue iris, emitting a glowing light like a torch, whizzing about and scanning their environment.

The Doctor fumbled his screwdriver out of his pocket. “See, that ship up there is scanning this area for non-terrestrial technology. And nothing says non-terrestrial like a sonic screwdriver.” He lifted it up triumphantly, and pressed a button.

The ears of the dog began twitching, and both his and the man’s eyes darted around. The Doctor raised the screwdriver high up into the air. Then a lot of things happened very quickly. The streetlights exploded, one after the other, all around the little park. The alarms of the cars around the park went off, their wipers hurriedly scraping across the windscreens. A woman riding on a scooter was suddenly driving off, her hands clutching at the handle bars for dear life as she screamed. Then the sirens on the fire engine started blaring, going up the road with no driver, the firefighters running behind it screaming.

The ray of the starship neared the town they were in. “I think someone's going to notice, don't you?” The Doctor smirked. His screwdriver started to feel hotter, he could feel the systems overheating, it really wasn’t in the best state right now. Hoping for the best, he pointed it towards the red telephone box, which blew up in smoke.

Suddenly the screwdriver burned up, shooting sparks, and the Doctor hissed of pain and dropped it to the ground, where it was sizzling, the material blackening, “No!”, then it almost started to shrink inwards, deforming, crackling a few times, until it feel silent. “No, no, don’t do that!” The starship moved across a little, scanning the area, and then took off flying into a different direction. “No, come back. He's here! Come back! He's here. Prisoner Zero is here.” The man-dog smirked, and began glowing, disintegrating and disappearing down the drain next to him. “Come back, he's here! Prisoner Zero is-“ – “Doctor! The drain. It just sort of melted and went down the drain.” Yoongi pointed out.

“Well, of course it did.” The Doctor rolled his eyes. “What do we do now?” Yoongi shouted. “It's hiding in human form. We need to drive it into the open.” He gritted his teeth. “No Tardis, no screwdriver, seventeen minutes. Come on, think. Think!”

 

* * *

 

 

In the coma ward at the local hospital, one of the patients was trembling, quivering in his bed. He had short grey hair, a spodgy red head suited on a protruding neck. Bent over the bed stood the doctor, Dr Ramsden; she was shaking his shoulders, shouting his name, “Can you hear me?”

She was so focused on her patient that she didn’t notice anything weird above the bed, she didn’t notice anything slithering through the air vent, nothing. The multiform materialised partly, revealing its true form, a grey, almost see-through body; organs visible through the shiny, rippled skin. Its bright orange eyes were seated on each side of the oval head which was only a little wider than the thin, snake-like body. Its muzzle was half-opened; its fangs, long and thin, were looming across the edge.

The multiform looked around the coma ward, at the doctor and the patients in it.

 

* * *

 

 

Jimin was crouching in front of the drain, peaking through the grid. Yoongi frowned. “So that thing, that hid in my house for twelve years?” The Doctor stared straight ahead. “Multiforms can live for millennia. Twelve years is a pit-stop.” Yoongi’s face had gone cold again. “So how come _you_ show up again on the same day that lot do? The same minute!” There was an edge in his voice.

“They’re looking for him, but they followed me.” He jerked his chin towards the sky. “They saw me through the crack, got a fix, they're only late because I am.” He explained quickly. Was he the only one keeping track of events?

“What’s he on about?” The nurse asked Yoongi, ignoring the Doctor between them. “Nurse boy, give me your phone!” He held out his hand. “How can he be real? He was never real.” Jimin insisted. “Phone! NOW! Give me!” Jimin handed it over. “He was just a game. We were kids. You made me _dress up_ as him.” He whined, wildly gesticulating in front of his face.

The Doctor began flicking through the Nurse’s phone. “These photos, they're all coma patients?” The nurse had been taking pictures of the multiform, without knowing what it was, but there were eight different humans, all emptily staring straight ahead, standing with their feet wide apart, legs straight, arms hanging to either side stark and stiff; just like the man-dog had. Jimin nodded.

“No, they're all the multiform. Eight comas, eight disguises for prisoner Zero.” He swiped his thumb across the phone again. “He had a dog, though. There's a dog in a coma?” – “Well, the coma patient dreams he's walking a dog, Prisoner Zero gets a dog.” An idea hit him. “Laptop! Your friend, what was his name? Not him, the tall one.” – “Thanks.” Jimin muttered. “Donghyuk.” Yoongi supplied. “Oh, thanks.” Jimin groaned and turned away. “He had a laptop in his bag. A laptop. Big bag, big laptop. I need Donghyuk‘s laptop.” The Doctor put his arms around the two. “You two, get to the hospital. Get everyone out of that ward. Clear the whole floor. Phone me when you're done.” The Doctor nodded at them expectantly.

“Your car! Come on.” Yoongi tugged at Jimin’s hoodie and turned on his heels. “But how can he be here? How can the Doctor be here?” Jimin called after him, waving his hands around.

 

* * *

 

 

The Doctor had raced back towards the Donghyuk’s house, running past the elderly woman downstairs and racing up the stairs. He pushed open the first door he saw, and _bingo!_ , Donghyuk _plus_ Laptop on bed. “Hello! Laptop. Give me.” He ushered, trying to grab it. “No, no, no, wait!” For a moment they struggled for the laptop, Donghyuk frowning. “It’s _fine_. Give it here.” It was like these people just didn’t _care_ about their planet! “Hang on.” He whined, but too late, the Doctor was already walking around the bed, laptop in hand. He sat down and looked at the screen. “Blimey. Donghyuk! Get a girlfriend.” He crooked his head and squinted. “Or a boyfriend.” He opened a new browser window.

The door to Donghyuk’s room opened again. “Gran!” She closed the door. “What are you doing?” she demanded off the Doctor. “The sun's gone wibbly, so right now, somewhere out there, there's going to be a big old video conference call. All the experts in the world panicking at once, and do you know what they need? Me.” He was typing away, looking up at her while explaining this. He’d found the signal, it was easy to find, really, the most protected connection currently across the whole globe. Now he just had to crack the password. “Ah, and here they all are. All the big boys. NASA, Jodrell Bank, Tokyo Space Centre, Patrick Moore.” Donghyuk’s gran chuckled. “I like Patrick Moore.” – “I'll get you his number. But watch him, he's a devil.” The Doctor smirked.

“You can't just hack in on a call like that!” Donghyuk protested. He typed a last row of code, pressing enter. “Can’t I?” Six faces, their names written underneath, appeared on the screen. “Who are you?” – “This is a secure call, what are you doing here?” The Doctor grinned and pulled out his psychic paper, holding it in front of the webcam. “Hello! Yeah, I know you should switch me off, but before you do, watch this.”

He began typing again, writing down the solutions a few mathematical and physical problems that he knew humanity hadn’t figured out at this point yet. “Fermat's Theorem, the proof. And I mean the real one. Never been seen before. Poor old Fermat, got killed in a duel before he could write it down. My fault. I slept in. Oh, and here's an oldie but a goodie. Why electrons have mass. And a personal favourite of mine, faster than light travel with two diagrams and _a joke!_ Look at your screens. Whoever I am, I'm a genius. Look at the sun. You need all the help you can get. Fellas, pay attention.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Sir, what are you doing?” He held Jimin’s phone close to his face, knitting his forehead in concentration. “I'm writing a computer virus. Very clever, very fast, and a tiny bit alive, but don't let on.” He lowered the phone momentarily and pointed his finger at the webcam. “And why am I writing it on a phone? Never mind, you'll find out. Okay, I'm sending this to all your computers. Get everyone who works for you sending this everywhere. Email, text, Facebook, Bebo, Twitter, radar dish, whatever you've got. Any questions?” Patrick Moore leaned closer, pushing up his glasses. “Who was your lady friend?” – “Patrick, behave!” He chuckled.

“What does this virus do?” _A fair question._ “It's a reset command, that's all. It resets counters. It gets in the wifi and resets every counter it can find. Clocks, calendars, anything with a chip will default at zero at exactly the same time. But yeah, I could be lying, why should you trust me? I'll let my best man explain.” He paused, eyes darting across to Donghyuk next to him. “Donghyuk, you're my best man.” He whispered. “You what?” Donghyuk looked alarmed.

The Doctor closed the laptop and grabbed Donghyuk’s shoulder. “Listen to me. In ten minutes, you're going to be a legend. In ten minutes, everyone on that screen is going to be offering you any job you want. But first, you have to be _magnificent_. You have to make them trust you and get them working. This is it, Donghyuk, right here, right now. This is when you fly. Today's the day you save the world.” Donghyuk nodded, slowly. “Why me?” – “It’s your bedroom.” The Doctor replied, courtly. “Now, go, go, go!” He rushed out of the door, when he had a last idea. He stuck his head through the door. “Oh, and, delete your internet history.”

 

* * *

 

 

Jimin spoke hectically with another nurse, then turned to Yoongi, exasperated. “Something's happened up there. We can't get through.” Yoongi pursed his lips. “I’m phoning him.” He opened his flip phone. “Doctor? We're at the hospital, but we can't get through.” He wrinkled his forehead. “What did he say?” – “Look in the mirror?” He turned around and watched his reflection for a moment before his eyes lit up. “Ha! Uniform! Are you on your way? You’re going to need a car!” He said into the phone.

“Don't worry, I've commandeered a vehicle. Remember that fire engine?” Yoongi heard a siren on the other end, then a click. The phone call had ended. _Well, the Doctor probably knew what he was doing._ He fished his Beret back out of his pocket and put it on, showing off the fake symbol at the front. He clipped off the badge on his vest and walked towards the crowd of doctors and nurses at the door.

It didn’t take much for them to let them through; Yoongi had been getting good at playing police officers. Jimin laced their hands and guided him towards the coma ward. They’d reached the final corridor. “Oh god..” The entire floor seemed to be destroyed, tables and chairs were lying on the ground, everywhere, pills had spilled from one table across the floor. Yoongi carefully stepped over them.

A lady came around the corner, holding two little girls by the hand. The woman had short brown hair, short and kempt, and was wearing a blue blouse, black jacket and black trousers. Both girls were wearing blue dresses, knee-length, one had shoulder-length hair, the other, taller one had hair down to her waist. “Officer!” The woman’s face relaxed visibly when she spotted Yoongi’s uniform, and hurried towards them. “What happened?”

“There was a man, a man with a dog. I think Dr Ramsden's dead. And the nurses.” Her voice was shaking. Yoongi pulled his phone out of his pocket, flipping it open.

“Are you in?” The Doctor asked when he answered the call. “Yep. But so’s prisoner Zero.” Yoongi turned away a little, to speak in privacy. “You need to get out of there.” The woman continued speaking. “He was so angry. He kept shouting and shouting. And that dog. The size of that dog.” Yoongi felt a tug on his sleeve and looked around. “I swear it was rabid. And he just went mad, attacking everyone.” But it wasn’t the mother speaking, even though it was clearly her voice. It was the little girl to her left with the long hair.

Yoongi stared at her mouth moving, and inhaled sharply. He lowered his phone and took Jimin’s hand in his, motioning him to walk backwards. “Where did he go, did you see? Has he gone? We hid in the ladies.” Jimin’s breath hitched. The woman began speaking, using her mouth _and_ her voice this time. “Oh, I'm getting it wrong again, aren't I? I'm always doing that. So many mouths..” She shook her head. Then all three of them opened their mouths wide, big, revealing the fangs, growling. Jimin recoiled, throwing up his hands and shouted. “Oh my god!”

Yoongi could faintly hear the Doctor’s voice through the phone in his hand, but he didn’t bother listening as he dragged Jimin backwards, into the first room behind them. The double doors didn’t have a lock, _of course not_ , but Jimin found a broom and barred the door, threading it through the handles. They could see through the windows in the door, see the creature behind them, growling and pushing at the door, which was swinging dangerously despite the broom. They didn’t dare look away and walked backwards. “At least we’re in the coma ward now.” Jimin said, his voice choked.

Yoongi could hear the Doctor’s voice again, so he lifted up his phone. “Yoongi, talk to me!” Yoongi gulped. “We’re in the coma ward, but it’s here. It’s getting in.” Jimin pulled both of them behind a bed, towards the wall. “Which window are you?” Yoongi handed the phone to Jimin. “What, sorry?” – “Which window?” The Doctor shouted. “First floor, on the left, fourth from the end.” He recited.

The broom broke. The little girls pulled the door open. Yoongi felt Jimin stiffen next to him. The creature snarled. Then it closed all of its mouths simultaneously. The woman spoke up. “Oh, my dear little Min Yoongi. I've watched you grow up. Twelve years, and you never even knew I was there.” Jimin handed him the phone back, his hands were trembling. Slowly, the woman and the children walked towards them. “Little Min Yoongi, waiting for his magic Doctor to return. But not this time, Yoongi.” She lowered her voice, threateningly, and revealed her fangs again.

Yoongi’s phone beeped, and he quickly looked at the display. ‘Duck’, the text said, from Jimin’s phone. _The window._ He turned around, turned at the window right behind them, and heard a faint siren. He grabbed Jimin’s arm and pulled him towards the floor, as the window smashed above their heads and a ladder crashed through the window.

Pieces of glass rained down on them; then the Doctor climbed through the window. “Right, hello!” He jumped down and threw his arms around their shoulders. “Am I late?” He looked up, saw the clock above the doors, 11:48, and answered himself. “No, three minutes to go. So still time.” He brushed over his shirt.

“Time for what, Time Lord?” Prisoner Zero pronounced the last two words carefully. “Take the disguise off. They'll find you in a heartbeat. Nobody dies.” He walked to the middle of the room. “The Atraxi will kill me this time. If I am to die, let there be fire.” The creature’s eyes widened. “Okay. You came to this world by opening a crack in space and time. Do it again. Just leave.” He opened his arms. “I did not open the crack.” – “Somebody did.” The doctor insisted. The creature crooked its head, its three heads. “The cracks in the skin of the universe, don't you know where they came from?”

She chuckled. “You don't, do you?” Then, she switched to the voice of a child. “The Doctor in the Tardis doesn't know.” It repeated the last two words in a song. “Doesn't know, doesn't know!” The Doctor looked up to the clock again. 11:50. He crooked his head. “The universe is cracked. The Pandorica will open. Silence will fall.” _Silence.._

The clock showed 0:00. _It worked._ “And we're off! Look at that.” The creature stared at him blankly. He pointed at the clock behind it, over the door. “Look at that!” He chuckled. “Yeah, I know, just a clock. Whatever. But do you know what's happening right now? In one little bedroom, my team are working. Donghyuk and the world. And do you know what they're doing? They're spreading the word all over the world, quantum fast. The word is out. And do you know what the word is?” He paused a little.

“The word is Zero. Now, me, if I was up in the sky in a battleship, monitoring all Earth communications, I'd probably take that as a hint.” He grinned widely. “And if I had a whole battle fleet surrounding the planet, I'd be able track a simple old computer virus to its source in, what, under a minute? The source, by the way,-” he pulled Jimin’s phone out of his pocket - “-is right here.”

A bright light entered the ward through the windows. Yoongi pulled Jimin backwards. “Oh!” The Doctor chuckled. “And I think they just found us!” The creature was startled, but continued. “The Atraxi are limited.” _Aha, so that’s who they are._ “While I'm in this form, they'll still be unable to detect me. They've tracked a phone, not me.”

“Aah-“ The Doctor raised his eyebrows. “but this is the good bit. I mean, this is my favourite bit. Do you know what this phone is full of? Pictures of you. Every form you've learned to take, right here. Ooo, and being uploaded about now. And the final score is, no Tardis, no screwdriver, two minutes to spare.”

He took a big breath and spread his arms and yelled, “Who da man?” The creature gave him an incredulous look; he turned around and saw Yoongi purse his lips. “Oh, I'm never saying that again. Fine.” He rolled his eyes. The creature lowered her chin. “Then I shall take a new form.” The Doctor snorted. “Oh, stop it. You know you can't. It takes months to form that kind of psychic link.” The woman curved her lips. “And I've had years.”

The creature began glowing, white, orange, yellow; glimmering at the edges, and he heard a thump behind him. Yoongi collapsed, Jimin trying to catch him and break his fall. “NO! Yoongi!” He ran over to them, pressing his hands against the Blonde’s face. “Don't sleep! You've got to stay awake, please.” His eyes were shut, his mouth hanging open slightly. He heard the nurse behind him. “Doctor!” He pointed up. A new form had appeared, on the spot where the woman stood with the girls, moments ago.

A tall man was standing in the ward, messy hair, ripped light blue shirt, pine-striped trousers, a brown tie barely holding on the torn collar, white converse. “Well, that’s rubbish. Who’s that supposed to be?” The Doctor asked, narrowing his eyes. “It’s you?” Jimin said. “Me?” The Doctor looked down himself. “Is that what I look like?” He almost looked a bit disappointed. “You don't know?” Jimin asked, eyes wide. “Busy day.” The Doctor shrugged and stood up.

“Why me, though? You're linked with him. Why are you copying me?” The two Doctors walked towards each other. A child’s voice sounded, a little boy’s, very, very familiar to the Doctor. “I’m not.” Appearing behind the fake Doctor was Yoongi, Yoongi as a little boy, Yoongi in his red cardigan with the pyjamas with the red sprinkles on it, holding his hand.

“Poor Min Yoongi. Still such a child inside. Dreaming of the magic Doctor he knows will return to save him. What a disappointment you've been.” His innocent voice was full of contempt, none of the delight and bravery that the Doctor remembered so clearly.

“No, he's dreaming about me because he can hear me.” The Doctor said quietly. He spun around and sprinted back to Yoongi’s side, cradling his small face in his hands once more. “Yoongi don't just hear me, listen. Remember the room, the room in your house you couldn't see. Remember you went inside. I tried to stop, but you did. You went in the room. You went inside. Yoongi, dream about what you saw.”

“No, no, NO!” The creature shouted. “NO!” It began glowing again like before, the figure contorting, and with a wet spatter, the creature took its original form. “Well done, prisoner Zero.” The creature snarled, shaking its grey head angrily. “A perfect impersonation of yourself.” It caught the light of the ray, and hissed, as if in pain. The deep voice from before sounded again: “Prisoner Zero is located. Prisoner Zero is restrained.”

The creature thrashed around, then stopped and floated, eerily still. The ray got brighter, and in return prisoner Zero began fading. _Typical teleportation ray._ “Silence, Doctor. Silence will fall.” It choked out some last words before fading completely.

The Doctor ran to the window, and watched the starship fly away. _How dare they..?_ He pulled out the phone again. Jimin looked over his shoulder. “The sun. It's back to normal, right?” he asked. “That's, that's good, yeah? That means it's over.” The Doctor patted his head and walked past him. Yoongi stirred, wrinkling his nose, slowly blinking his eyes open. “Yoongi! Are you okay?” He helped him sit up. “What happened?” Yoongi mumbled, rubbing his head.

“He did it. The Doctor did it.” – “No, I didn’t.” Jimin noticed his phone in his hands. “What are you doing?” The Doctor furrowed his brows. “Tracking the signal back. Sorry in advance.” Jimin helped Yoongi up. “About what?” The Doctor coughed. “The bill.” He brought the phone up to his ear.

“Oi, I didn't say you could go! Article 57 of the Shadow Proclamation. This is a fully established level five planet, and you were going to _burn_ it?” He raised his voice. “What? Did you think no-one was watching? You lot, back here, now.” He hung up and threw the phone back to Jimin. “Okay, now I've done it.” He turned around; Yoongi scrambling to his feet and following him. Jimin stood, frozen, mumbling to himself. “Did he just bring them back? Did he just save the world from aliens and then bring all the aliens back again?”

The Doctor pushed the doors open, and walked through the destroyed corridors with big strides. “Where are you going?” Yoongi called behind him. “The roof. No! Hang on!” He spun around.

 

* * *

 

 

“I'm saving the world - I need a decent shirt. To hell with the raggedy. Time to put on a show.” The Doctor walked past Jimin into the locker room, who just gaped at him wordlessly. He picked up random shirts lying around, throwing a few into the air, and keeping a hold of two. His eyes lit up when he walked past a dark blazer hanging on a rack. “You just summoned aliens back to Earth. Actual aliens, deadly aliens, aliens of death,-“ The Doctor loosened his tie and opened the buttons on his shirt. “And now you're taking your clothes off. Yoongi, he's taking his clothes off.”

The Doctor pulled the torn shirt off, revealing a broad, tanned back. “Turn your back if it embarrasses you.” He snorted. “Are you stealing clothes now? Those clothes belong to people, you know..” Jimin’s voice trailed off as the Doctor took off his trousers, and he turned around promptly. Yoongi however didn’t budge, didn’t even blink, and as Jimin faced the other way, blushing, he merely raised his eyebrows. “Are you not going to turn your back?” Jimin whispered to Yoongi, eyes darting about. “Nope.”

 

* * *

 

 

The Doctor pushed the fire escape door open, followed by the couple. He’d settled on a light pink shirt, and high-waisted dark brown trousers with a pair of red braces. Around his neck he’d thrown a couple of ties, and Jimin was carrying a few blazers across his arm; the Doctor hadn’t decided on one yet. Just above the roof was the starship, hovering, not moving apart from the twitching eyeball.

“So this was a good idea, was it? They were leaving.” Yoongi said, turning his face to Jimin. “Leaving is good. Never coming back is better.” The Doctor replied over his shoulder, then looked up and yelled: “Come on, then! The Doctor will see you now.” The eyeball dropped to the roof, zooming in right in front of the Doctor. It was about twice the height of the Doctor.

A ray scanned the Doctor from head to toe; a different ray than before, it was blue and very concise. “You are not of this world.” The voice said. “No, but I've put a lot of work into it.” The Doctor agreed. He began looking through his ties, holding up a black one, and hummed. “Hmm I don’t know. What do you think?” The Atraxi, as the creature had referred to them, ignored this and asked instead: “Is this world important?”

The Doctor huffed. “Important? What's that mean, important? Six billion people live here. Is that important?” He threw the black tie behind him blindly, Jimin catching it. “Now, here's a better question. Is this world a threat to the Atraxi?” He discarded a purple tie in a similar fashion, hitting Yoongi with it. “Well, come on. You're monitoring the whole planet. Is this world a threat?”

The eyeball stayed still, and projected a flood of images, images of the world, images of the forests, the mountains and the cities, the ancient and the new. The projection vanished. “No.” The Atraxi concluded. “Are the peoples of this world guilty of any crime by the _laws_ of the Atraxi?” he asked sharply.

Another projection, this time, featuring the people, all people, from all corners of the planet. “No.” The voice concluded. “Okay!” The Doctor exclaimed.

“One more. Just one. Is this world protected? Because you're not the first lot to come here, oh, no.” A new projection rose, showing every instance on which aliens had tried to take over this planet, the Daleks, the cybermen, every single monster the Doctor had faced on the skin of this planet. He turned around and walked towards Jimin and Yoongi.

Picking up a bowtie and blazer from Jimin’s hands, he continued. “And what you've got to ask is, what happened to them?” The projection changed, and showed his faces, every single face he’d had, ten, in total, so far. Ten, not counting this one. They couldn’t know this one yet.

He stepped through the projection, grinning widely. “Hello. I’m the Doctor.” He raised his eyebrows. “Basically, run!”

The iris looked up and down him, then zoomed backwards and returned to its ship. The starship began twirling around its axis and flew off into the sky. Yoongi giggled, incredulous. A whirring sound appeared, like the Doctor’s Tardis, but his blue box was nowhere to be seen; instead he felt something hot in the inside of his jacket. He reached inside and found a small, silvery key, emitting an orange glow. _She’s ready._

He heard Yoongi laugh and say something, but he was already running down the stairs, his mouth open in excitement. He’d finished regenerating, and so had the Tardis. He couldn’t wait to meet her again.

 

* * *

 

 

Sure enough, the Tardis was there where he’d left it, in Yoongi’s garden. It was a dark blue, a fresh coat of paint, crisp edges, where they had been chapped; the light at the top blinking, noticing his presence.

Breathless, he pulled out the key of his pocket. ”Okay, what have you got for me this time?” He inserted the key and opened the door, a soft orange glow kissing his skin. The Doctor looked around, still standing at the door. “Look at you.” he whispered. Then he pulled his mouth into a wide smile. “Oh, you sexy thing! Look at you!” he repeated. All this age, and the Tardis looked as fresh as the day, just like him. He closed the doors behind him.

 

Outside, Yoongi and Jimin just came into the garden, as the whirring sounds began, the light at the top blinking, in time with the sound. They both froze a few feet away from the Tardis, and watched blankly as it disappeared into thin air.

The sun was shining and a light breeze played with the leaves of the bushes, just like they did on the morning all those years back when the little boy sitting on his suitcase decided to stop waiting and go back inside.

 

* * *

 

 

He dreamed about that, too, the next time he heard the whirring, distinct sound again. It pulsed through the air, louder and louder, until it tore him from his sleep. He decided he wasn’t dreaming, not this time, and whipped open his eyes, sweeping his blonde hair out of his face. No, the sound was still there. He jumped out of bed and to the window in one swift motion. The blue box was there, in his garden, shining brightly, not crashing into anything but having landed perfectly on the ground.

He was outside before he knew it, quickly pulling on a light blue cardigan over his white pyjamas and stepping into his slippers. A figure exited the Tardis, only slightly illuminated by the light coming from the windows, a calm, white-blue this time. The silhouette turned around.

“Sorry about running off earlier.” The Doctor shouted. “Brand new Tardis. Bit exciting.” Yoongi could barely see him caress one of the wooden doors. “Just had a quick hop to the moon and back to run her in. She's ready for the big stuff now.” He tapped the Tardis lightly. Yoongi walked towards the Doctor, not sure if he should run or walk, and settled on an odd mixture of the two.

“It’s you. You came back.” He paused, still a few feet away from the Tardis. “Course I came back. I always come back. Something wrong with that?” The Doctor retorted. Yoongi took the last steps towards the Tardis, eyeing up the Doctor in the dim light that was the glow of the Tardis. “And you kept the clothes.” He pointed out.

“Well, I just saved the world.. The whole planet, for about the millionth time, no charge. Yeah, shoot me. I kept the clothes.” He huffed. “Including the bow tie?” Yoongi raised his eyebrows. The Doctor adjusted the bow tie and narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, it's cool. Bow ties are cool.” Yoongi shook his head lightly. “Are you from another planet?” – “Yeah.” The Doctor breathed.

“Okay.” He shrugged. “So what do you think?” The Doctor asked, raising his shoulders. “What?” – “Other planets. Want to check some out?” He seemed nervous, out of breath. “What does that mean?” Yoongi demanded. He’s been waiting for too long, he was no longer the little boy willing to sit outside all night. “It means. Well, it means..-“ The Doctor took another breath. “Come with me” – “Where?” Yoongi snapped, still careful.

“Wherever you like.” He did little pauses between the words, pronouncing them carefully. Yoongi looked away, eyes trailing over the Tardis. “All that stuff that happened.. The hospital, the spaceships, prisoner Zero..” he mumbled. “Oh, don't worry, that's just the beginning. There's loads more.” The Doctor grinned widely. “Yeah, but those things, those amazing things, all that stuff-“ Yoongi paused and looked at the Doctor, then raised his voice. “That was two years ago!”

“Oops.” The Doctor giggled. “Yeah!” Yoongi almost shouted. The Doctor gulped and did the math. “So that’s-“ – “Fourteen years!” – “Fourteen years since fish custard. Min Yoongi, the boy who waited, you've waited long enough.” He nodded at him. Breathlessly, Yoongi asked. “When I was a kid, you said there was a swimming pool, and a library, and the swimming pool was _in_ the library.”

“Yeah. Not sure where it's got to now. It'll turn up. So, coming?” He patted the doors of the Tardis again. “No.” Yoongi breathed out. “You wanted to come fourteen years ago.” _This was mad, this was mad and unreal, and couldn’t possibly be true._ “I grew up.” The Doctor smirked. “Don't worry. I'll soon fix that.” He snapped his fingers, opening the doors to the Tardis. And for the first time, Yoongi could actually see inside the strange blue box that turned up in his garden one evening.

He was immediately engulfed in a soft, yellow light. He looked at the Doctor, not believing what he was seeing; the Doctor had a small smile on his lips. Yoongi’s eyes flew back towards the Tardis, darting around the inside. His breath hitched as he walked through the door. Behind him, the Doctor closed the doors.

And inside the Tardis, well, the Tardis was a gigantic room, it was a small box on the outside, but inside, inside it was huge, there were steps leading up to a column, with a screen and a horn and what could well be steering rods, and the column was in the middle of them all, a glassy column, a light blue perhaps but mostly see-through, and this, this island was on top of a glass floor held up by thick metal, joining into a geometric pattern underneath it.

The walls were glowing in a soft orange, some with circular pustules, some with little lights attached to it, and there was a downstairs as well, and more stairs leading up, and Yoongi could see two corridors leading away from this room on this storey, as well, and he’d only taken two steps into the Tardis.

“Well? Anything you want to say? Any passing remarks?” The Doctor’s face appeared in front of him. There was a certain twinkle in his eyes when he said, “I've heard them all.” The Doctor ran up the stairs, jumping of the last one, turning on his heels. “I.. I’m in my pyjamas.” – “Oh, don't worry. Plenty of clothes in the wardrobe. _And_ possibly a swimming pool. So, all of time and space, everything that ever happened or ever will.. Where do you want to start?”

“You are so sure that I'm coming.” Yoongi followed him up the stairs. “Yeah, I am.” He nodded. “Why?” Yoongi demanded. “Cause you’re the Daegu boy living all the way here in the South, and I know how that feels.” The Doctor said simply. “Oh, do you?” He sneered, but couldn’t make his words sound as angry as he wanted to. “All these years living here, most of your life, and you've still got that accent. _Yeah_ , you're coming.”

The Doctor chuckled and began shifting the levers. Yoongi walked around the column in the middle to look at the Doctor. “Can you get me back for tomorrow morning?” – “It’s a time machine. I can get you back five minutes ago. Why, what's tomorrow?”

“Nothing.” _Nothing_. “Nothing. Just, you know, stuff.” The Doctor raised his eyebrows but set back to work. “All right, then. Back in time for _stuff_.” He nodded. The Tardis made a weird sound, very bubbly, a bit like those computer games that were popular in the 90s, and a sonic screwdriver popped out of the Console. “Oh! A new one!” The Doctor jumped over and took it out, trying out the button.

The screwdriver lit up bright green, this time. It also looked slightly different to the one Yoongi remembered, but then, that had been two years ago, he really wasn’t too sure. Or he was, having repeated those days over and over in his dreams. “Lovely!” The Doctor exclaimed and then whispered, “Thanks, dear.”

Now the Doctor began typing into an old typewriter that was also in the console, at the column. Yoongi stretched his hand towards one of the steering rods, and touched it lightly, which made a warping noise. He recoiled and gulped, eyes spinning around the room, breath going faster. He could feel his throat closing up, so he whipped around and asked, “Why me?”

“Why not?” The Doctor shrugged. “No, seriously. You are asking me to run away with you in the middle of the night. It's a fair question. Why me?” The Doctor began fiddling with the console again, possibly with a spinning top but Yoongi wasn’t too sure and kept his stare focused on the Doctor. “I don't know. Fun. Do I have to have a reason?” – “People always have a reason.” – “Do I look like people?”

Yoongi raised his eyebrows. _This again_. “Yes.” – “Been knocking around on my own for a while. My choice, but I've started talking to myself all the time. It's giving me earache.” The Doctor rambled on. “You're lonely. That's it? Just that?” The Doctor walked around the console and faced Yoongi. “Just that. Promise.” – “Okay.” The Doctor turned another switch at one of the screens. Yoongi walked over to the edge of this _island_ , for the lack of a better word for it, the little circular glass floor with the console in the centre, surrounded by railings.

He leaned against the rails. His knees felt a little weak. “So, are you okay, then? Because this place, sometimes it can make people feel a bit, you know-“ – “I’m fine.” Yoongi cleared his throat. “It's just, there's a whole world in here, just like you said. It's all _true_. I thought, well, I started to think that, maybe, you were just like a madman with a box.” His eyes darted around the room.

“Min Yoongi, there's something you'd better understand about me, because it's important, and one day your life may depend on it.” The Doctor walked up behind him and put his hand on his shoulder. “I am definitely a madman with a box. Ha ha!” Yoongi could feel a giggle in his throat and the Doctor led him back towards the console. Together, they pulled at one of the bigger levers, which triggered the whirring sound that Yoongi remembered almost as well as his own name. “Yeah. Goodbye Jeonggwan-myeon, hello everything.”

 

* * *

 

 

The leaves in the garden rustled when the Tardis disappeared, as if to protest silently. Then it was gone. The house lay there, and it seemed like nothing had happened, like an alien, a Time Lord from the planet of Gallifrey hadn’t just plucked a human of the skin of the earth and disappeared together with him.

The lights were still on, in Yoongi’s room. He’d forgotten to turn them off in his haste for the door. Littered across his desk, a bigger one, now, not the same one as before, were drawings, children’s drawings, of a man in ragged clothes, a light blue shirt and a brown tie, with pine-stripped trousers, drawings of blue boxes and flashing lights, drawings of all the dreams he had. The drawings were all over his desk, all over his floor, as if blown about by a big gust of wind, but there hadn’t been one. There were drawings lying on the floor next to his wardrobe, one door open.

A tux was hanging on the door of the wardrobe, a tux in a see-through clothing bag, a very nice and elegant tux, the jacket made out of shiny, black, soft velvet. A tux to wear to a wedding where you are one of the main guests.

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

_My name is Min Yoongi. When I was seven, I had an imaginary friend. Last night was the night before my wedding, and my imaginary friend came back._

_All of time and space, everything that ever happened or ever will, where do you want to start?_

**Author's Note:**

> I'd love it if you left some feedback :3 also I've had ideas for the other members, soo if this crossover is your thing then stick around ;) I've really enjoyed writing it! <3
> 
> also if you want to know what's up with the _Silence_ and all of that, pls watch the fifth season of Doctor Who


End file.
